


Walk With The Devil

by songofgallifrey



Category: Bernice Summerfield (Big Finish Audio), Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio), Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 06:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13358922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofgallifrey/pseuds/songofgallifrey
Summary: Irving Braxiatel is the devil in the details. After defeating the Fifth Axis, he reflects on long lost friends, pain and new beginnings. Spoilers for series 4 and onwards for Bernice Summerfield and trigger warning for scars.  Braxiatel/Pandora.





	Walk With The Devil

Inspired by Peaky Blinders song; Walk with the Devil. (Especially Karliene's cover on youtube)

For the lovely Lela, Zetasigma on tumblr who has been nothing but helpful and kind to me with her friendship.

_So I walk with the Devil_  
_My Rivals best be careful_  
_Cause when you're already dead_  
_There's no gun at your head_  
_You're finally free_

* * *

Irving Braxiatel has never exactly been good.

Oh, he always had good intentions but for all the wrong reasons. He was the villain. The anti-hero if he was kind. He was the Time-Lord that people went to for information. The one that they went to when they were out of their depths and needed help getting out of a sticky situation like Andred catching that student about to poison the water supplies on Gallifrey. Or even himself coming to do deals for his Collection that he had built oh, so long ago.

He was the devil with all the details written on his hand.

He stood by the window overlooking the Whispering Gardens, half in the shadow and half in the light as he observed his territory. He never truly recovered from the Fifth Axis though he puts on his façade that it never bothered him. Benny asked questions about it from time to time when they share a bottle of his finest brandy but he always lies and tells her it was nothing to worry about.

He glanced down at his wrists where the scars could barely be seen under his suit. Both mental and physical scars that had been caused by the Fifth Axis and he knew they would always remain there.

What was it that Leela said about scars? It had been so long since he had last seen her. He remembered her saying back in her tribe, scars were a story of your battles and that they should be worn with pride.

These were his battle wounds now. Much as _she_ was.

He could feel her clawing against his mind, like a caged animal in a zoo trying to claw its way out of the cages. He felt her purring and when the Fifth Axis tortured him using their sadistic methods and as he screamed, he could feel her mocking him through his pain as though he deserved it. Perhaps in many ways, he had. He straightens himself, hands clasped behind his back as he continues to watch. He could see Mister Crofton's grave from here, the old gardener and could see Hass the Ice Warrior tending to the yellow roses. According to Hass, yellow roses were a symbol of joy, friendship and the promise of a new beginning.

He let out a wry chuckle.

A new beginning indeed. The Collection much like Gallifrey, couldn't isolate itself forever and Braxiatel knew changes had to be made and plans were already in place. If organizations like the Fifth Axis and the Daleks were taking interest in his Collection and more so his TARDIS and not to mention the ever-growing tensions between the Draconians and the Mims, then the Collection also had to be protected if he was going to open his Collection up.

It was going to need an _army._

She laughed and he closes his eyes, raising the back of his knuckles to his forehead and presses against it as though hoping it would stop.

"An army _indeed,_ " Pandora laughed coolly. "Of what? Flesh? Daleks will exterminate them on the spot. What you need is something everlasting. Something made out of perfection."

Irving barely managed to open his eyes, the pain excruciating. Even with no other Time-Lord's around, it was the concentration of keeping her locked in her cell, his mind 24 hours a day, 7 days a week that took its toll on him. Even when he was being tortured by the Fifth Axis, he never once let his guard down with her for he knew the consequences if he did. "Everlasting?" He scoffs. "Nothing last forever. Not even art."

"Not even _you?"_

He gives a wry smile in the shadows. He knew that when he eventually dies, he will take her down with him. "Not even us."

He could feel her anger then in his mind as she lashed out, trying to get to him, trying to see if he would break. But Irving Braxiatel would never break. He was strong, stronger than people gave him credit for. He was that strong he even pushed a Killoran out of the way in anger when they found out it was the Daleks wanting his TARDIS. If the Pandora expected she was immortal, then she was wrong. "You can only see the past and present," He reminded her. "You cannot see the future."

"Neither can you!"

"Oh, I have my ways." He chuckles. "I am a Time-Lord after all."

"A Time-Lord that is exiled from his own home and away from his people," The Pandora smirked. "And away from his friends."

"A King must make sacrifices to protect his Queen," He countered and he walked over to his desk and he opened up the first drawer, rummaging through it until his fingers grasped what they were looking for and he slid them out and held up the small piece in the light. It was a white Queen from a chessboard. "And if that means sacrificing myself to protect her, so be it."

The Pandora cackled. "Oh," She crooned and he narrowed his eyes. "But didn't you get the memo? You've already sacrificed yourself and she doesn't _care."_

He tried to ignore her insult but he couldn't help but feel as though the Pandora was telling the truth. He looked at the White Queen, the symbol for his Lady President, Romana. A woman he was willing to sacrifice himself time and time again, to protect and makes sure she stayed on in Presidency until time was right. But at the same time, he wondered if Romana cared. If she cared about the sacrifices he was making, the pain he had to go through when there were so many willing to do the same for their President.

He puts the White Queen down on his desk next to his third empty glass of whiskey and stack of Shakespeare plays. The Pandora thought she knew Romana in her arrogant ways, thinking she knew Romana in how she wanted her to be the next Imperiatrix of Gallifrey, the next destroyer of worlds. But she didn't. The Pandora didn't know Romana at all. Not like the way he knew her. "Oh," This time, it was his turn to purr. "Didn't you hear? She does."

Checkmate.


End file.
